Mean Time

Shadows Mingle


Mean Time


Where the sea kisses the horizon

Someone once drew a line

and now we see the boundary when before there was just a deeper blue.

In the beginning there were days when I drew you with words

that turned into sentences.

Why is it when we see a gate

we want to close it?

Even if there is nothing either side?

And when there is grass

We long to shorten it.

The long misty country trails turn into infinity

not destinations

as far as the eye can see.

When we walk together and our shadows mingle

There is no point where one person ends and another begins

Perhaps there isn’t meant to be.

When you fully discover another

and the soft edges become a little harder

the temptation to repaint the masterpiece

pouring trouble onto oily waters

doesn’t lead to change, only the desire to change the very thing

that was autographed by the Creator.

From here

in the deep, uncharted sun-chipped pools

On the endless shore of being

Where the you meets the me

Someone has drawn a line

Like a monstrous meridian

Snatching mean time

from a perfect eternity.


Roy Stannard. 17th May 2011


Sea Whispers


Sea Whispers


On the less travelled side of the horizon

Two gypsy birds slide along the Channel trades

The sun inlaying their jewel antics.

When we were young our bodies wrote love in the sand

We burned without fear of carcinoma

And every star was a supernova

Pieces that couldn’t help fitting together

Mortise and tenon and old-time carpentry

When we spoke it was in unison

When we sang it was in harmony

The years have added season and flavour

Words are now often unnecessary

As we get an occasional silence in edgewise

Your eyes are still as blue as the July waves

That used to tickle our holiday feet.

The small definitions of love mean the most

The washed up breezes on the tideline

The faint scars of love and recognition

The casual shrug of a lifetime

The loose thread of conversation

The words unsaid, but understood

Tender around that shared heart collision.

A quarter of a century ago

When you were half the age you are now

And looked for the other half in my direction

It is in the tiny things that love is defined

The pebbles on a Sussex beach

Reaching out to the horizon

You believed in me back then

When there was nothing to believe in

That act of faith led me to believe too.

In me there was always you

Something beautiful found in the spaces

Something hoped for come true

I loved you in all those places

The tidal rivulets and glistening rock pools

Seaweed garnish and mussel shells

Where the shoreline joins the skyline

Lies our personal eternity.

Love is not a panorama

It lives in the cracks and the crevices

The small detail of the laughter lines

And the turn of the face

As the light fades

And because we are used to the world shouting

We sometimes miss it when it whispers.


For Lindy after 25 years of being in love 

Roy Stannard 4.4.10